


Quality Time

by narsus



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, Pre-Slash, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-07
Updated: 2010-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narsus/pseuds/narsus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John goes to the gym, Sherlock follows him: jealousy, histrionics and outright manipulation ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quality Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC, Mark Gatiss & Steven Moffat, and obviously in the genesis of it all, to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Related, only by setting, to [Vanity](http://archiveofourown.org/works/125632).

Hadn't been a bad idea. Wasn't. Most certainly not. Never _wrong_. Well, maybe. Sometimes. Not about this. Maybe. Hopefully. Stupid Mycroft. Should have said- wasn't _wrong_. Just- unidentified parameters. Slightly different result. Not exactly _unexpected_. John isn't _predictable_ after all. Would be boring otherwise. Mycroft is- Not boring, not predictable. Except when he wants to be. Very boring then. Very, very, dull. Bored of Mycroft anyway. Box of chocolate covered almonds _not_ an acceptable peace offering. Wanted absinthe. Real absinthe. Could have found some if he wanted to. Stupid, dull, boring Mycroft. Boring clothes, boring props, boring aftershave. Boring face too. _Not_ interesting in the slightest. Certainly not _interested_ in- _Boring_. Stupid brother.

Boring passers by too. Dull, dull, dull. Boring pavements, boring tube. Jacqueline du Pré not boring. Elgar very not boring. Headphones... useful. Don't care about- _people_. Avoid puddle. Rained four hours ago. Delayed John. Didn't want to go out in the rain. Why? Get a taxi. Didn't though. Walked to tube, walked to gym. Extra exercise? Seems pointless. Wasn't a _bad_ idea. Thought he'd come with me. Mycroft. Called it 'quality time'. Why did he say it like that? What is 'quality time' and why do I need it? Means something. Look it up later. Suspicious. What does it mean? Mycroft paid for John's membership. Must be important- Queen and country. Hope not. _Very_ dull.

Flash membership card. New staff. Don't want to _talk_ to- Oh God, personal trainer. Duck behind pillar. Do _not_ want fitness assessment now. Couldn't walk last time. Hobbled around flat for entire day. Flee down corridor! Should be safe. Feel for heart rate. Hand over suprasternal notch. Feeling threatened, obviously. _Not_ 'clutching at my pearls'. Stupid Mycroft. Don't do it often anyway. Do I? Does John think- Of course not. Wouldn't. What if he does? Mental note: clutch at pearls less often- Stupid Mycroft. John. Find John. Reason for being here. Move hand from suprasternal notch first.

Where is John? Sunday morning. Shouldn't be hard to find. Not many people. Walk past cardio studio. Where would- John- on X-trainer? Why? Hard to balance. Designed for taller- people with no knees. Bendy tissue for legs. _Not_ involving joints. Can't- don't- Always worried I'll fall over. Feet slip. Don't like that. _Very_ unstable. Not useful at all. John isn't having any problems. Why? Adjusting music. Looking down at MP3 player. Still on machine. Consider sneaking up behind him. Decide against it. Watch instead. Mouths "If it's not rough it isn't fun". John. Listening to- what? Grins. If _what_ isn't rough? Must find out. Was listening to something earlier. Doing dishes. Upbeat. Singer singing about drinking himself into a coma. Odd. Contradictory. Is John contrary? Not enough data.

Watch him get off X-trainer. Swipe towel across shoulders. Wears a vest _not_ a t-shirt. Contradictory. Scars. Hides them in clothing. Obvious. Bullet wound. Right shoulder. Scar tissue. Doesn't care. Why does he try to- wouldn't know if you didn't- Pulls his right shoulder up. Healed but- Grazed the subclavian artery. Any lower and- No. _Not_ thinking about it. John is alive. Here. Now. Doesn't care about his scars right now. On bloody _stepper_ now. Can't stand that- what is he doing? Can't balance. Could fall off. Ridiculous. Does he have a death wish? Holds on with one hand. Flicking through exercise plan with other. Insane. John is completely insane. That machine is dangerous.

Duck round corner as he finishes. Maybe John just has better balance? Lower centre of gravity. Must be. Fearless. Been shot, been in a war. Doesn't care about falling off exercise machines. Avoids free weights. Good. Too much attention. Don't want other men staring at John. Might do something ridiculous. _Not_ clutching at pearls. Scratching collarbone. Am not feeling threatened. Lost sight of John. Where- Weight machines. More difficult to observe. Pressed up against wall. Have to lean quite far back to- Fine, clutching at pearls. Precarious position. Could be vulnerable to attack. Chest press _and_ lat pulldown? Working those shoulders, are we? For whom? Smooth hair back from forehead- pacifying gesture. Why am I- _oh_. Don't care. Stupid John. Stupid girlfriends. Boring. Dull. Just followed John to the gym. Can't really argue indifference. Followed Mycroft to that restaurant too. Who was he wearing that shirt for?

Fine. Enough. Going outside. Will wait for John there. Can go home together. Where are my cigarettes? Wrong pocket. Why- oh, busy clutching at pearls with other hand. Outside. Courtyard. Car park. Nicotine. Pull gloves on. Getting colder. Weather's changing. Leaves. Slippery. Don't lean against wall: stones leach the heat. Thermodynamics. Wish John would hurry up. Watch leaves fall. Such bright colours. Getting rid of waste. Text Mycroft. "Who were you wearing that shirt for?" Reply while fumbling with lighter. "I had a meeting. What are you doing loitering in a car park?" Ignore him. Where is John? Second text. Ignore it too. Third. Send reply. "Cottaging." No more texts from Mycroft. Good.

John. Good. Start to move out of alcove created by buttresses. Shelter from the wind. Open mouth to call out. Don't make a sound. John's with someone. Another man. Talking. Walking towards a car. Just talking, doesn't _mean_ anything. Hand moving entirely of own volition to suprasternal notch. Wish I wore a tie. Could pretend to be adjusting it. Am wearing a scarf. Why don't I just fiddle with that? John is... Should yell. Go cause a scene. Wouldn't take long to cross car park. Not moving. Don't want to. John closes the car door behind him. Car drives off. Don't even bother to remember the number plate. Ring Mycroft. Will ask him to send the car. Tired now. Don't want to walk back. Don't even want to walk to the main road and get a taxi. Want to sit down. Sleep. Mycroft picks up.

"I'm sorry for calling you 'Piecroft' when I was fourteen. I was a very stupid fourteen year old as you can tell and I'm sorry. And you're right: the only reason I wasn't saying 'your mum' back then was because she was my mother too. Sorry."

Didn't mean to say that. Hang up quickly. Always pretend that I was twelve when I said it. Thought it was a good pun at the time. Shows how intelligent I was at that age. Mycroft never liked pies anyway. Likes modern British cuisine. Sometimes eats chips and curry sauce though. Very northern of him. Phone rings. It's John. Pick up immediately.

"Sherlock-"  
"Please don't leave me. Oh God-"

Hang up. Have lost all control over verbal processing. Hitherto unnoticed brain damage, evidently. Start walking briskly towards main road. Phone rings. Don't even look at it. Can't risk- what if it's John? What if it's Mycroft? What about Lestrade? Don't even want to think- maybe- a case! Pick up. It's John again. Hang up abruptly. Walk past taxis. Don't want to go home. Phone keeps ringing. Always John. Car pulls up. Same one that was in the car park. John gets out. Looks worried. Don't want to talk to him. Can't walk round him though. Stop. Light another cigarette. John's hand on arm. Gentle.

"You okay?"

Shake head. Don't look at him. Eye blocking behaviour. Don't want to see something unpalatable.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

Note car hasn't driven off. John's _companion_ is looking concerned? Confused? Combination of both. Why- _oh_. Not hitherto unnoticed brain damage at all. Mind: infallible. Highly devious. John is a soldier. Manufacture a crisis and he'll come... solve it? Treat it? Save me. Cough. Use hand to cover smirk. Look at John now. Plaintive. Move in closer. Standing right in front of him. Look down, look back up at him.

"Sorry."  
"It's alright. Really, it's alright."

Hand on arm still. Rubbing up and down. Soothing. Doesn't think it's alright. Trying to fix the situation anyway. Staying calm in the face of- Bugger off! Car still hasn't moved yet. Watch John talk to his _friend_. _Finally_. Car leaves. Scowl. John's smiling. Why? Starts walking down the road. Keep pace with him. Finish cigarette. Don't talk. Hail taxi. Get in. Wait. Silence still. Reach across and hold John's hand. Doesn't pull away. Curious. Is he smiling again?

**Author's Note:**

> The Elgar concerto performed by Jacqueline du Pré would be the Cello Concerto in E Minor, Op. 85.
> 
> "If it's not rough it isn't fun." is a line from Lady Gaga's "Poker Face".  
> "I'm drinking myself into a coma." is a line from "I'm at a Low" by The Break and Repair Method.


End file.
